


Cold Snap

by diaphanous87



Series: The Many Ships of Tilly [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A single person dinghy of a ship, Cock Warming, Creampie, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Francel has one hobby and it's making Tilly sing, Francel is cute, Friends to Lovers, I love Ishgardian elves, I ship it though so whatevs, Lemon, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multiple Orgasms, No beta we die like mne, Outdoor Sex, Pre-Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Row row row your boat, Snowed In, Tilly Lucia, Tilly and Francel's beach vacation, Tilly the Botanist, Vaginal Sex, Water Sex, a tiny bit of insecurity on Francel's part, but only for a moment!, does it count as outdoor sex if they're inside a cave?, gotta keep warm hurhurhur, let us love him, rarepair madness, save a chocobo ride an elezen, sex on the beach isn't just a drink, sometime during the Ishgard Restoration, spicy fic, super spicy, the author indulges herself, the commenting made me do it!!!, tis the season for snowed in smut fic, unplanned second part, vague lvl 50 ARR Botanist Job Quest spoilers, vaguely post-Shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaphanous87/pseuds/diaphanous87
Summary: A sudden snow storm shouldn't be a surprise in the icy hills of the central highlands of Coerthas. But caught by surprise she was, much to her frustration. Sure, find some mature spruce, easy. Right. But Tilly managed to find shelter in a cave.An occupied cave.Francel, on the other hand, had been on patrol with his people when the snow squall separated him from his group. Thankfully he had enough mind to grab a bit of firewood. But it would not last for very long without more. When his guest made herself known, bearing wood of all things in her pockets, he had been relieved.He had not expected this encounter to take such a turn.
Relationships: Francel de Haillenarte/Warrior of Light
Series: The Many Ships of Tilly [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536589
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48





	1. Cold Snap

**Author's Note:**

> Francel fucks, don't @ me. 
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

* * *

** Cold Snap **

* * *

The cold was sharp enough to sink down to the bone through several layers of clothes and a coat. She had even shoved a knit hat over her furred ears, flattening her spiky bangs down. The miqo’te had also covered her poor tail in a sock like sleeve that buttoned to her breeches to keep out the cold. But nothing really shielded completely against the chill. Combined with the knee high snow, Tilly was fighting a losing battle.

“Find some spruce, show Fufucha the positive of being a botanist, stay with the guild…” Tilly muttered to herself from behind her scarf. “Sure, just let me get right on that.” But nothing was pinging against her senses. So she trudged on, occasionally passing by a Skyfire Lock. And she stopped at every spruce she saw but none wasn’t right yet for harvesting. “Fuck me.” Tugging down her dark blue scarf, the miqo’te coughed. There was ice forming inside the knitted fabric thanks to her breath. Snow started to fall, collecting on her eyelashes, her hat covered head, and her shoulders. She hissed and growled. She shook her head to dislodge the unwelcome snow. But it was just the beginning…

Tilly squawked when a strong gust nearly knocked her forward onto her face. She stumbled, gasping. She threw out her hands to either side of herself to regain her balance. Her usual miqo’te hunter’s grace had deserted her in the high snow. “The skywatcher said nothing about a storm!” Tilly huddled underneath an immature spruce tree. The sky darkened quickly. The snow was falling faster now, the wind picking up speed. “Shit, shit, shit!” Her mitten covered hand tugged her scarf back up over her chin and mouth, leaving only her eyes visible above the blue knit.

There wasn’t a random Skyfire Lock near her now. She had wandered too far. But she was near a cliffside. Mayhap she could shelter in a cave. Hopefully Ixal free.

Also please don’t let there be a dragon… She wasn’t equipped for fighting a nana bear cub let alone a dragon from the Dravanian horde. Even taking a moment to do an instant change to dragoon from her armiger could spell doom because it would only take a moment to succumb to draconic claws.

The snow had accumulated by quite a bit even after only a few minutes of frantic thinking and was now nearly to Tilly’s waist. But she was determined not to die like some kitten abandoned in the snow. From beneath her tree she dove forward, as if charging at an enemy. Since her axe was strapped to her back, her hands were free to help dig a slightly easier path to tread.

There! A cave! Thank Oschon!

Tilly staggered into the cave, brushing off snow and leaving a trail. Beyond the cave mouth the wind howled. She tugged down her snow encrusted scarf to stick out her tongue at the now raging snowstorm. Then she sniffed, turning her back to the cave entrance. She smelled the beginnings of smoke.

Someone was already here…

The miqo’te quietly pulled her axe from her back. And though its edge was more for chopping trees, it would do fine for chopping off heads if needed. She went further into the cave on silent feet and around the first bend. The light of a new fire now added a glow to the darkness of the cave. She stuck to the shadows however. Slowing her breathing, she crouched down behind a rock and peeked over it. Judging from the shape and height of the person standing there, it was an elezen. But their back was turned to her and they were hunched a little. In fact, they were shivering quite hard.

Tilly scooped up a pebble and launched it across the space so that it would clatter against the cave wall opposite of the elezen. They shouted in surprise.

“Who goes there?!” They whirled around, revealing a familiar face.

Oh… that’s Francel… Wait a minute!

“What are you doing all alone?!” Tilly shouted, popping out into the open. She put her axe into its magnetic holder on her back. The elezen squealed and jumped. His fancy lord’s hat fell off his head, revealing his wavy blond hair and landing by his feet.

“T-tilly?! Is that you?” Francel wrapped his arms around himself, shaking.

Tilly pulled off her own hat, her fuchsia hair wilder than usual. She shook her head so that her hair could resettle into their usual state of just spikes and sidebangs and not crazy hobo witch hair. “Aye, tis me,” she replied. Her ears flicked at their new freedom. “Lord Francel, where are your people? Your guards?”

“We were separated during patrol…” His pointed ears drooped, his eyes downcast. “And the storm came so quickly.” He laughed nervously. “You’d think I would be used to such snowy squalls by now.”

“Hmm.” Tilly tucked her hat into her hip pouch along with her mittens. She approached the Isghardian and smiled. “Well, sometimes people just forget things even after years of knowing. It happens. Are you alright?” She gently touched his forearm, frowning at how damp it was and how thin. “This isn’t a very thick coat…”

“My… my cloak is on that rock by the fire. Thank the Fury I had some flint and I managed to grab a few branches.” He pointed to a cloak draped over a rock nearly as tall as Tilly. The fire was small but close to said rock. “Though I fear I do not enough to last us the night. Snow squalls tend to last for many bells here.”

“Lucky you then,” Tilly said. “My armiger has quite a bit of wood. Originally it was part of an order for the Carpenters Guild but I think keeping ourselves warm is a priority, aye? Beatin is patient, so he can wait. And I’ve got a few blankets too.”

“Thank Halone, my friend!” Francel exclaimed, his blue eyes brightening. “You are a blessing!” He tried to give her a courtly bow but stumbled. “Oh!”

Gasping, Tilly jerked forward and caught him by gripping his biceps to keep him upright. His coat was even wetter at his upper arms beneath her palms, not good. “Easy there, my lord. Wouldn’t want to smash that pretty face on the cave floor.” She shook her head and straightened him up. “No need to bow to me.” She cupped his face. The elezen whimpered and leaned hard into her touch. “Francel! You’re freezing!” She tugged him back to the fire. “Good, good, you have a circle of stone to keep it contained…” Tilly pulled out her bedroll and a blanket from her armiger, setting both by the fire. “Sit down before you fall.” She tugged off his wet gloves, her nose wrinkling.

Francel let himself be guided down. “Forgive me… I…” He shivered. The blanket was draped over his head, small hands tucking it around him. “Thank you.”

“Take off your jacket.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

Tilly flicked his nose with her fingers. “I’m not trying to seduce you, silly. Your coat, take it off. It’s soaked which is not helping you keep warm. Off.” She laughed at his red face and turned around to give him some privacy. “I’ve got some low quality oak Beatin would have rejected anyway. Not that I would have presented it to him in the first place.” She summoned the wood from her armiger in a pile on the other side of the fire. She looked up at him. “Is your jacket off?” Tilly asked as she grabbed her axe to begin splitting the logs into smaller pieces for their fire.

“Aye, my lady.” Francel had wrapped the blanket around himself like a fleecy wrap tunic. “But I fear my shirt was just as wet. I apologize for my indecent state…” He blushed a bright red from his embarrassment and the cold. “Aah…” His blush grew when Tilly swung the axe down and split the first log in one strike. Such casual strength from a woman so small.

The miqo’te didn’t notice, busy as she was preparing the wood for the fire.

“Half naked, huh?” She ignored his sputter. “I spend a lot of time in Costa del Sol. Trust me, yours will not be the first bare chest I’ve ever seen.” Tilly propped her axe on the rock that had Francel’s drying cloak. “There, that should be enough for now.” She fed a few of the newly hewn logs into the fire. “How are your breeches?”

“FINE! They are fine! I shan’t be taking them off! It would be... inappropriate.” The elezen pressed his hands over his bright red face. “I beg of you, do not ask me to take them off.”

“Okay, okay.” Tilly stifled her laughter. These Ishgardians sure were prudish. “I wouldn’t have cared, you know.”

“Inappropriate! My lady, please!”

“You’re fine, Francel.” She grinned. “Well, I’m going to take off my coat to let it dry by the fire too.” Tilly took off her axe harness and her hip pouches. They joined her axe and she added her scythe. “And we can share the bedroll.”

“Share?!”

Tilly paused. She looked up in confusion from her coat buttons. “Have you… have you never been part of a kitten pile?” she asked. “My sisters and I used to pile up during the winter months at night to keep warm. Even the desert can get cold.”

“But… but you’re… and I’m…!” Francel couldn’t find any words.

“Ah. I see.” Tilly unbuttoned her tail cover, dropping onto the cavern floor. Her tail swayed and flicked. “Is it because you’re a man and I’m a woman or something like that? Do you think you’ll be overcome with lust and ravish me?” She flashed a fanged smile at him. Her bright green eyes narrowed. “Do not think for one moment I would let you without my express permission.”

“Forgive me! I don’t mean to imply… That is to say… I would never… you are... I swear I would not touch you without consent!”

Her smile softened. “I know you wouldn’t,” she said. She shrugged off her coat to lay it by the fire. “You’re an actual gentleman, unlike so many others.” Tilly removed her high boots, thankful that her thick socks were dry. She hopped over to him happily, ears perked and tail curved up.

Francel shot up to his feet. His blanket fluttered to the ground. Oh, nice view indeed. “Speak their names, my lady!” he growled, blue eyes flashing angrily. Tilly came to a surprised stop, eyebrows raised. “I would teach the curs who touched you manners! How dare they treat you thusly?!”

“Francel, honey. It’s okay.” She touched his bare wrist and looked up at him. “It’s fine.”

“No, it is not! You are amazing and wonderful and should be treated with all due respect!” His voice grew louder with each word, outrage painted across his handsome face. “I would have their names, Ma’tylda,” he said with a low, guttural tone. “These men will not get away with such disrespect.”

Hearing her full name in his voice with that tone made her ears swivel forward. Her pupils expanded, nearly swallowing the green of her irises. Her fingers curled around his wrist. She felt her lips part in a silent pant. “Such ardent defense,” Tilly murmured. “Very few have ever done such a thing for me, Francel.” Her chest heaved at the thought.

Francel curved over her, his blond bangs brushing along the tips of her ears. “You are a lady beyond compare,” he said, for once not stumbling over his words. “Good and kind. Making your acquaintance has filled my life with immeasurable gratitude for you saved me when others would have forsaken me as a heretic in truth. I can never repay you.”

Tilly shook her head. “I would only have your friendship,” she replied. “Not in gratitude but in genuine affection…”

“And you have it, always. I admire you so. And you are… beautiful, Halone preserve me.” The young lord raised his hand, his palm hovering over her shoulder above the pronounced curve of her bicep. “Ma’tylda?” His hand came down to cup her shoulder, the cotton of her tunic warm from her skin. “Stop me, Ma’tylda…”

“No, I don’t think I will. And just Tylda is fine.” Her free hand pressed over his heart. She tilted her face up, her lower lip shiny from where she had licked it. Tilly smoothed her hand up to cup his nape. She rose to her tiptoes and tugged him down. “Francel…” The elezen’s pupils were blown wide, matching her own, the blue of his irises darkening to nearly black. “Francel, please kiss me.”

Francel bit off a curse damning himself in Ishgardian. His other hand easily broke from her hold and pressed against the small of her back, pushing up just a little. She gripped his bare bicep instead. He bent further down to slot his mouth over hers. Tilly moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. Francel groaned and pulled her against him. Her clothed breasts were smashed against his skin, her back arched. Her lips opened beneath his to let in his tongue. He swallowed the soft sounds of pleasure she made. They broke apart after a few long moments and Tilly sunk back down from her tiptoes. Her hand had moved to press against the front of his shoulder. The elezen lord panted, his face flushed.

Tilly nibbled her lower lip. She glanced at the bedroll. “So…”

“I do not expect more,” he said in a low voice. “To have shared a single kiss is more than—“

“Shush.” Tilly stepped back a bit. “Do you want to continue? Yea or nay?”

He smiled in bemusement. “Shouldn’t I be asking that?” he wondered. At the sharp look shot his way, Francel nodded. “By my lady’s leave, I would continue. But only if you wish it.”

“Oh I wish it, alright.” The miqo’te flicked her ears at him. “Boots, my lord.” She smiled when he hurriedly tugged his boots off. “So eager, I’m very flattered.” Tilly’s smile widened as she slowly began to unbutton her vest. He watched, vibrating in place and hands clenching and unclenching. She swung her hips in a little circle for him, tail sinuously moving. He wheezed. Her eyelashes lowered. Her smile turned wicked as her lips curled up crookedly at the corners. She dropped her vest behind her.

“Tease…” Francel growled. He stalked toward her but stopped at her silent command. “Let me help you,” he crooned, switching tactics. “I would aid thee.” He held out his hands. “Tylda, let me help.”

Tilly let out a throaty laugh, smoothing her hand down the front of her tunic and tightening the fabric over her chest for a quick moment. The valley of her breasts was easily visible thanks to the loose ties. He twitched forward but stayed in place. “I want you,” she said. “Do you want me?”

“Aye. Aye, I would have you, Tylda. And you would have me.” The elezen’s shoulders heaved from his effort to stay in place.

“Good answer,” she sang. She bent forward to pull off her socks. The vee of her tunic afforded her soon-to-be lover a view of her cleavage and he groaned. “Patience, Francel.” She fiddled the ties of her woolen leggings. Slowly she untied them and wriggled her way free, tugging down her smalls as well. They joined her vest and pouches. But her tunic was long enough to block the view of the apex of her thighs.

“My lady, mercy,” he begged, about to vibrate out of his skin. His pointed ears gave the slightest of quivers, his blush traveling down his throat and to his chest. His breeches were tented by his arousal.

“Hmm.” Tilly turned, swinging her hips and tail at him. “Bedroll, then. I do not intend to tup on top of bare rock.” She shrieked a laugh when Francel zoomed over to scoop her up in his arms. “Francel!” The miqo’te nuzzled his jaw, her arms thrown around his shoulders. How easily he picked her up… She scraped her short fangs at his throat, delighting in his moan. “Hurry up.”

Francel grunted. “I’m not the one who was teasing,” he said as he laid her down on the bedroll. He chuckled when she summoned up a pillow from her armiger to put under her head. “I’ve got to learn that.”

“Adventurers only, sorry darling.” Tilly gripped his shoulders to pull him down. He settled between her thighs to kneel above her, hands planted down on the bedroll at her hips. She crossed her ankles at the small of his back. She gasped and arched up against him when he rolled his hips forward against her bare sex. “Yesss…”

“What a shame,” he mused, burying his face against her throat. His blond hair tickled her cheek and jaw. He kissed and sucked at her delicate, sun-kissed skin. The salty tang of her taste danced along his tongue, sweetened by a hint of rosewater. He felt her moan vibrate against his lips. The elezen lord smiled, nibbling at her collarbone. Her fingers clenched at his hair. Goosebumps pebbled her skin beneath his tongue and teeth. “Cold, chérie? Allow me to warm you then.” He rose a bit to pull off her tunic. He choked. “No breast band, Fury preserve me.”

Tilly only laughed at him. “I might have wiggled out of it,” she confessed. She cupped her breasts, the supple flesh overfilling her hands. “Francel, I’m cold.”

“Pray forgive me, fair lady. I shall warm you then.” Francel curved over her, one of his hands replacing hers to cup her breast. His mouth attended to the other, his tongue swirling around her perked nipple. She cried out, her hands flying up to clutch at his ribs. She arched like a bow pulled taut. Her ears folded back, the tip of her tail curling. Her mound rubbed against his lower belly. “Shhh.” He licked the outer and lower curve of her breast, drawing in more of her taste. His thumb caressed her other nipple in little circles. And then he switched from mouthing and suckling one to the other, his hands also switching. She let out another shaky cry.

The miqo’te, now hungry for more, fumbled for his belt. She hissed in frustration when it didn’t give way beneath her questing fingers. Francel laughed low and came to her aid. His hands quickly undid his belt for her. He shoved off his breeches and smalls. But he choked on his next breath as she wrapped her calloused fingers around his freed erection. The tips of her pointer and middle fingers barely touched around his shaft. She stroked his cock with firm motions, the skin like velvet to her touch. His fingers curled into the material of her bedroll. He panted in her ear, his breath causing her fur to ruffle. She tilted her head up to lick at his clavicle. His hips jerked.

But Francel was not one to be idle for long. He dragged his hand across her hip and delved into the wet folds of her sex. He grunted when her grip tightened and her rhythm stuttered. When she resumed her stroking, the elezen explored her with his fingers. Moisture coated his fingers ere long as he stroked every spot that made her moan. Though he teasingly avoided her clitoris for now, her hips moving in time with his hand. Francel nipped the tip of her ear and she retaliated by swiping her thumb over the head of his cock. He in turn thrust his fingers into her entrance to stretch her, searching and stroking. His pointed ears twitched when she choked out a gasp. Ah, he had found it. The elezen crooked his fingers against that spot again and rubbed her swollen nub with the pad of his thumb. She tightened around his digits.

Tilly’s fingers spasmed around his cock as she crested in her pleasure. She wailed and arched, her legs trembling around his waist and her toes curling. The leonine tip of her tail thumped against his hip. The tendons of her neck strained. Her pillow bore the brunt of her head pressing backward. She gasped when her wrists were snatched up and held against the pillow by one broad hand above her head.

Fevered blue eyes, nearly black in the dim firelight, stared down at her as she came down from her high. Francel grinned at her, all shyness having melted away like snow in spring. “Hello,” he drawled.

“Hi,” Tilly panted. She wriggled against his hold, though she had put no effort in the struggle. “Francel?” Her breath hitched for he had guided his cock to her entrance. Her lower lips parted around the tip of his cock. “Oh!” He bowed his head to kiss her, his tongue rubbing against hers. Slowly he entered her, ilm by ilm. She stretched around him, engulfing and squeezing. His other hand not holding her wrists to the pillow grabbed the back of her thigh. Bruises appeared beneath his fingers. She panted into his mouth, her pupils round as she kept eye contact with him. When he was hilted all the way inside, he pulled his head back a few ilms to break the kiss, a short line of spit suspended between them before she licked her lips and swallowed.

Francel let her wrists go to intertwine his fingers with hers, her other hand gliding over the skin of his shoulder to clutch at his back. The elezen began to thrust his cock into her, his hips slow but powerful.

She gave a sharp gasp with each hard thrust. Again and again, at a pace she wasn’t used in comparison to the few other times she had lain with another. This was… this was… She sighed when he kissed her again. He hitched up her thigh, leaving one leg still around his waist but levering the other so that her calf rested on his shoulder. Her moans deepened at the changed angle. She shuddered when he rubbed the base of her tail, her cunt flexing and squeezing around his cock. Her eyes rolled in her head and her fingers dug into the skin of his upper back, bruise blooming beneath her fingertips. His grunts and murmurs of praise echoed in her ears along with the slow wet clap of their skin meeting. He switched to kissing her cheeks, the corners of her mouth and the sweating skin of her forehead. His own sweat dripped down the sides of his face and coated his skin, adding a gleam in the firelight much like her own.

Tilly met his thrusting as much as she was able to considering she didn’t have much leverage. But she lost her ability when his hand that wasn’t intertwined with hers went back to pressing circles around her swollen clit. She cried out his name, panting harder and her breasts heaving. She arched and twisted her torso but he was unrelenting in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Instead Francel kept up his slow pace, watching her climb to her peak. He grit his teeth as he felt her teeter on the edge. So he directly touched her clitoris, a sword callous adding just the right amount of friction. She wailed a mangled version of his name as she came to her second peak of the night. Yet he still held back his own.

He wasn’t done with her just yet.

The elezen adjusted her legs and rolled over so that the miqo’te warrior was straddling his hips. He thrust up to reenter her cunt. She wheezed, her body jerking. Her hands braced on his flat belly as his hand gripped her hips. He planted his feet flat on the bedroll, bending his knees up behind her. Her hips moved in time with his thrusting cock. Her breasts bounced as she rode him. Her high toned grunting echoed in the cave along with the slapping of their sweat damp skin. This time the pace was faster. Tilly’s head lolled back, exposing her throat to his hungry gaze. The sight of her throat that bore his marks and full breasts as she rode him was glorious indeed. He adjusted one hand so that he could thumb at her clitoris again. He watched as she reached a third crescendo, her voice breaking as she wailed, her ears pressed back against her skull. Francel tightened his grip on her hips as he fought his orgasm. Not yet. Not yet.

Tilly bowed forward, bracing her hands on his chest. Her bright, sweat soaked hair framed her face. But her lover moved her hips for her as he kept thrusting into her body. “Francel, I need…!” she begged though her words escaped her after a particularly hard thrust. “Ah! Francel!” Again he began to rub circles around her overly sensitive nub, making sure not to directly touch it. “PLEASE!”

“Not… not yet, darling. One more now.” Francel urged, eager for her. “That’s it, sweet love. Another, give me another.” He made her squeal when he surged up to kiss her, his thumb circling faster. “Come on, come on!”

“I can’t!” Tilly wailed, clawing at his shoulders. She shrieked when he moved so that he was kneeling. She buried her face against his shoulder, her legs around his waist. She scored red lines on his back with her short nails. “Francel, Francel, Francel!”

He kissed her temple, panting against her fuchsia hair. “Chérie, s’il vous plait, encore une fois,” he groaned. “Encore, encore.” His other hand was still guiding her hips.

Tilly’s Echo translated his guttural words, his urging for her to come again. Combined with his rubbing thumb on her clit, it was too much. And then he bit the crook of her neck, his blunt teeth marking her skin. It spelled her end. Her body lockd up. Her cunt squeezed tight. She barely felt her tail curl, the fur on it standing straight up, and her ears quivered. She arched her back, opened her mouth, and screamed. 

Francel let out triumph laugh, licking the teeth marks he had left on her skin. He finally let the heat of his own orgasm sweep through him. He thrust up into her flexing cunt whilst pulling her hips down so that he could be completely hilted inside of her. His seed filled her, the overflow squeezing out past his cock. He groaned low and long. His cock jerked with each burst. She twitched at the feeling and her own aftershocks, shivering.

Wrapped around one another, they breathed in tandem. Slowly Francel moved so that they could lay down. His cock slipped out of her with a wet sound. Tilly felt his seed paint her inner thighs in splatters. She hummed, curling her leg over his hip. He peppered kisses along her shoulder as his hand stroked her side. His other arm pillowed her head. She curled up against him. Her ears flicked and swiveled.

“The storm is still howling,” Tilly mumbled.

“I told you the storms here can last for bells,” Francel said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He pulled the blanket he had dropped over them. “Rest, chérie. I’ll keep you warm.”

Though, after a bell of rest, Francel had Tilly on her hands and knees, burying his hardened cock in and out of her. Her tail was curled around his waist, the leonine tip at his hip. He made her sing, wringing out an orgasm with his clever fingers. She collapsed forward, her hips still tilted up to take his cock. Her face was turned to the side, cheek pressed against the bedroll. Her pillow had been shoved up off the bedroll. Her arousal and his seed from the previous round coated her inner thighs, practically dripping. He bent over her to kiss her nape. She mewled, rocking back to him in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Please! I need you!” Tilly begged, ears pressed back against her head. “I need...!”

“Not yet,” Francel said, reached around to cup her breast and to pluck at her hard nipple. He bit the crook of her neck to match the teeth marks on her other shoulder. She cried out at the feeling of his blunt teeth scraping her skin. Her cunt squeezed around him, eager for his seed. “Your... your pleasure is mine!” He stroked her flat belly. His hand trailed down back to her swollen nub and sopping wet folds stretched around him. “My Tilly, come for me.” He strummed her clit and stroked at the seam where they were joined. She let out a weak warble as she came again. “Good, so good.”

“Give me... your seed, I want it,” she panted. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her bedroll. “Francel!”

Groaning, he gripped at her hips, speeding up. “My seed, aye, I shall give it to you,” the elezen gasped. He slammed his hips against her over and over again. “Tylda, Tylda, Tylda!” He straightened his spine, tilting his head back. He grunted in time with his thrusts, her pleasured sounds mirroring his. He rubbed the base of her tail with one hand while the other played with her clitoris. She yowled and tightened around him in orgasm.

Francel groaned, hilting himself as deep as he could go. His cock jerked as he filled her again, his body shaking. The excess dripped from where they were joined. But he kept his hips flush against her lush bottom, unwilling to withdraw just yet. Beneath him Tilly panted and twitched. The elezen lord smoothed his hands over the cheeks of her arse and the sides of her thighs, marveling at her warm, smooth skin. He stroked her back, his eyes crossing as he felt her purr. The vibrations shivered down her body and around his softening cock.

“Ah, Francel...” she whimpered as he pulled out of her, his cum dripping from her sex. “Why did you pull out?”

“I would have slipped out soon enough,” he said, a rough rasp in his voice. Francel pet her bottom again, massaging the muscle. “What pretty sight you make, chérie.” He frowned. “Though I am worried... twice have I filled you with my seed. If a child were to take root... Ishgard is not kind to the illegitimately born.”

“Ah...” Tilly flopped over onto her back to face him. “I had forgotten that was a thing with elezen and hyur,” she said. She made grabby hands for him. “Come down here and cuddle.”

“As you wish.” Francel laid down, curling around her. He smiled shyly when she nuzzled deeper into his embrace. He kissed the space between her ears. “Are you not worried?”

“I’d applaud your virility if your seed did take root, first of all.” Tilly looked up at him and smiled. “You saw the markings on my belly, correct?”

“Aye, I did.”

She hummed, tracing random patterns with her fingers on his firm chest. “The Adventurers’ Guild offers a service to those who have a womb,” she began. “No matter how they identify, life happens. So our guild has chirugeons on hand who have the ability to apply aetheric contraceptive circles that are constantly charged by the ambient aether in the air. They simply need to be reapplied every year. And lo and behold, a fortnight ago I had mine reapplied.”

“Oh.” Francel blinked. “Has one ever conceived despite the marking?”

“Not to my knowledge. Not that I would mind.” Tilly giggled and licked his nipple. He flinched and laughed, pinching her cheek. “Wanna try?” She hummed happily when he kissed her, his hand cupping the back of her head.

“We should-“ he peppered kisses on the high curves of her cheeks, “We should test it. Just to make sure.” Francel rolled her onto her back. He grinned and kissed her chin. “Though I fear that I am spent.” He exchanged kisses with her, her lips soft beneath his.

“A man of science, I like it,” Tilly said. She rubbed the delicate shells of his pointed ears. He moaned. “After the storm we should head to... hmmm... your station cabin. And then experiment.”

Francel jerked up his head despite her whine of protest. “The storm!” He strained his hearing. “It’s over.”

Tilly clung to his shoulders, thighs still framing his hips. “We should check to see if the entrance is clear, I suppose.” She sighed. “Which means putting on pants.” Her hips twinged at the idea of walking. “Or well, it means you should put on pants. I don’t think I’ll be getting up for a bit more.”

“Did I hurt you?! Oh my darling, I apologize. I did not mean to harm you!” Francel fluttered his hands over her. “Where does it hurt? Shall I fetch a potion from my coat pocket?”

“Stop, it’s okay. I just need a moment. We were very vigorous, Ser I-Must-Make-My-Lover-Come-Six-Times. Let a girl rest.” Tilly playfully batted away his hands. “Put on your breeches and check the cave entrance, you silly dodo.”

“I... very well. As you say, I shall believe.” The elezen stumbled to his feet, wincing. “Aye, even with a bedroll, the ground was not very forgiving.” He huffed when she laughed at him and curled up under the blanket. He tugged on his breeches, socks, and boots. He pulled on his mostly dry shirt but did not button it. Before leaving her by the fire, Francel added more wood to their makeshift hearth. “Take a potion whilst I check the entrance, dear heart. I shall be back anon.” He summoned a bit of his aether to his hand as a glowlight.

“Okay!” she called to his retreating back. She smiled fondly and crawled over to grab one of her hip pouches. “Ouch, stupid rocks...” Tilly shifted aside a few vials of gatherer’s cordial and high potions to pull out a regular potion. She swallowed the liquid, sticking out her tongue at the vile taste. “Icky...” She corked the empty glass and put it back into her pouch. “I’m gonna wake up tomorrow with the taste of death having shat in my mouth,” she complained to herself, “no matter how much I brush my teeth.” Her furred ears flicked when she heard her lover’s returning footsteps. He stepped into the ring of light their fire was throwing off. “Oh, that’s not a happy face. What is it?”

Francel frowned harder. “We’re blocked in, I fear.” He clicked his tongue and pulled his boots back off. “There is only a small open sliver at the top. But I could see a glimpse of stars, so the storm is quite done. We’ll just have to dig ourselves out in the morning.” The elezen dug into the pocket of his still drying coat. “And since the storm is done, I can at least use the linkpearl to tell my men I live and with good company besides.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “If you don’t mind me telling them that you are with me?”

Tilly nodded. “Yes, let them know that I’m with you. Though... are you going to tell them I’m warming your bedroll, so to speak?”

“Oh? I thought this was your bedroll?”

“Very funny, you’re a funny guy, Francel.” Tilly stuck out her tongue. “Tell them that I’m riding their lord’s cock then. See if I care.” She laughed at his scandalized face. “Ashamed?”

“Never! I would never be ashamed of you.” He had an earnest expression on his face, eyes pleading. “If you allowed, I would sing it from the rooftops of Ishgard that you honored me with your company. Me! The fourth son of House Haillenarte!”

“You would not! You’d die of embarrassment!” Tilly giggled, reaching out to tug at his open shirt. “Come here, you sweet fool.” He got back onto the bedroll with her, pulling her into his lap. She tilted her head up to kiss him. He kissed back, slow and sweet. His hand tightened around his linkpearl and it buzzed to life. They jerked apart when a frantic, tinny voice called from the device. “Whoops.”

_My lord?! Lord Francel, are you well?!_

Francel popped the linkpearl into his ear and pressed down. “Aye, I am well, my friend. How do you and the others fare?” He tilted his head, listening. “You found a cave as well? Very good. Nay, do not come for me yet. Our cave is blocked in for now. Yes, I’m not alone. Our lady Ma’tylda sheltered with me.” He glanced at her grinning face. He narrowed his eyes. “She has consented to be my sweetheart, actually.” The blond elezen smirked. “Oh yes, thank you for your congratulations.”

Tilly gaped at him, shocked that he had actually gone through with her implied dare. She pinched his nipple in punishment. He blew her a kiss after flinching. She snapped her fangs at him. Francel silently laughed. She wrapped her arms around him with a pout but also a twinkle in her bright green eyes.

“I shall see all of you in the morn, Fury willing. Stay warm and rest for now. Francel out.” His eyes were filled with laughter as he disconnected the call. “Problem, darling?” He tossed the linkpearl back into his coat pocket.

“You are a bad man, Francel de Haillenarte. That sweet face of yours is a lie.” Tilly squealed when he nipped the base of her ear. It flicked and smacked against his laughing face. “Bad elezen, no. Hm!” She opened her lips for his kisses as she clutched at his broad shoulders. “You can’t... mmm... you can’t kiss... your way out.... out of this one! Francel!”

The elezen lord laughed softly against her skin as he trailed kisses down along her jawline. He mouthed at her throat, bearing her backwards onto the bedroll. Apparently he had had enough time to recover for round three. He filled his hands with her breasts while she tugged off his breeches. Together they pulled off his open shirt and his socks. She wrapped her limbs around him and gave herself over to his talented hands. The song of her pleasure rang in his ears as he drew her up only to tilt her over the edge of her seventh peak of the night. And he took her again and again until they finally fell asleep.

And in the morning, using her spade in turns, they dug themselves out to greet the morning light and a new beginning.

* * *

**END**


	2. Heat Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything, from ending the Dragonsong War to saving the First and her old friend, Tilly deserved a vacation! And her Francel, as hardworking as ever, deserved one too. The summer was calling as were the beaches of Costa del Sol. And in the heat and the cooling water, they came together. 
> 
> Over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am weak and thirsty. And I have lost control of my life... again!
> 
> This little epilogue went from 'they went to the beach to relax and wink-wonk' to an explosion of pure smut. I hope a certain enabler enjoys the romp. (You know who you are, ser!)

* * *

** Heat Wave **

* * *

“Hi, Curious Gorge!” Tilly waved, her other hand wrapped around one of Francel’s wrists. The elezen was flushed bright red, sweat dripping down the sides of his normally pale face. His blond hair, usually so wavy, was plastered to his skull. He also waved to the Roegadyn. “Are you headed out?”

“Aye,” the Warrior Roe said, sloshing out from underneath the falls. “I’ve got things that I must see to myself. The Hidden Falls are yours until my return.” He eyed the drooping form of her companion. “Best get your lad into the water. He looks like he’s boiling alive in his velvets.”

“Hear that, Francel! I told you to change, you silly dodo.” She laughed and shook his wrist in her grip. He wheezed and nodded. “See you later, Gorge!”

“Farewell. I am off now. Don’t let your beau die in this heat.” Curious Gorge wandered away, letting the morning heat of Bloodshore wash over him.

“Come on, Francel, let’s go into the water. Though I don’t know why you won’t just swim in the ocean at Costa…” Tilly guided her lover to the sandy shore ringing the pool. Above them the waterfalls flowed over the edge of the cliff. “This is supposed to be our vacation. I assure you that the Firmament will not explode without your supervision!”

Tilly summoned a beach blanket from her armiger, waving it open to set it down near the gently lapping water. And a picnic basket was set at the side along with towels. She gently grabbed his lord’s hat off of his head and set it at one of the corners. She then proceed to fiddle with his buttons. Her ears wiggled happily, her tail curved up and swaying in time with her humming.

“Aye, my lady…” Francel wheezed. “And I wasn’t… I wasn’t comfortable being so underdressed around so many people.” He finally understood what she had been talking about before their first bout of lovemaking long ago. Not her first sight of bare chests indeed. Halone preserve him. The elezen lord was an active man, truly he was. But some of the men on display at Costa del Sol were, well, they were extremely fit. He wasn’t even close to being that heavily muscled. Even his fellow elezen wandering around the resort were wider than he with bulging muscles gleaming with oil.

Whatever had compelled his Tylda in settling for him when she saw such sights so often?!

“Are you worried that your biceps aren’t as big?” Tilly asked, looking up from where she was trying to take off his jacket.

“How did you..?”

The miqo’te laughed. She finished undoing his buttons. At her urging he shrugged off his jacket in relief. “Those muscles are all for show over there,” she said. “I assure you not a one of those silly peacocks have ever swung a sword. Or contended with a dragon during the Dragonsong War. They only look like that to get people to giggle and coo over them.” Tilly stroked the curve of his bicep through his cotton shirt. Her other hand pressed against his sternum. “Unlike you and your functional musculature.” A sly smile curved her full lips and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Have I told you lately that I very much like your arms and shoulders?”

“Nay, not lately,” Francel replied, a different kind of heat now flushing his cheeks. His hands came up to cup her elbows. “Do you indeed?” He brushed a kiss on her sweat damp temple.

“Hmm, I like watching you lift things during the restoration.” Tilly felt him smile against the delicate skin of her cheek. “Now stop worrying. I don’t want any of those preening fools. Only you.” She giggled and unbuttoned his shirt, smoothing her hands up his bared chest. Her green eyes lit up at his rumbling groan. “Hurry up, Francel. I want in the water with you.” Tilly stepped out of his reach, dodging his grabbing hands. “Ah-ah! Swimming first! You promised!” She wagged her finger at him.

“As you wish.” Francel dropped his shirt onto the blanket. He wrestled his boots and socks off. With each layer removed, he certainly felt a bit cooler. Despite the arousal now flowing through him. “What about you? That one of my shirts you snatched but surely that’s not the only thing you’re wearing?” The sight of her in his colors had nearly been his undoing before they had even left their little rental bungalow. Apparently even a morning tup hadn’t been enough to stop him from nearly dying due to his blood rushing south.

Tilly spun around to show him, even though he had been seeing the sight all morning. “Yup! I don’t have a cover up so I grabbed this from your suitcase this morn!” She wiggled and played with the buttons. “Guess what?” She kicked off her sandals vaguely near their picnic basket.

The blond elezen paused in removing his breeches to reveal his swim trunks. “What?” he asked, immediately suspicious of her playful tone. “Tylda.” He kicked off his breeches at last.

“I bought a new bathing suit! Ready to see?” Her fuchsia bright ears were perked forward at his eager reaction. She eyed his erection tenting his swim trunks. “Oh, yes. You are ready to see.” With painful slowness, his pain, her nimble fingers undid the first button at her throat. Francel made a pained noise, darkened blue eyes narrow in concentration. Tilly cooed at him. She popped another button above the valley of her breasts. He twitched which made her grin wider. Her lips parted and she panted. The elezen’s own panting matched. She undid the next at the middle of her chest. The shirt parted enough for a peek of skin and a flash of Haillenarte green fabric. The same green as his signature jacket.

Halone preserve him!

Francel nearly fell to his knees as more buttons were popped and his ‘borrowed’ shirt was dropped onto the sand. His lover’s heaving breasts were barely contained in a single strip of Haillenarte green cloth, strings attached to the top of the fabric leading up her chest and tied at the back of her neck. The tiniest bottoms barely blocked the view of her mound, more string holding the piece to her at her hipbones tied in bows. She spun for him and he groaned. Her tail was above the swim bottoms. The fabric just covered her perk arse cheeks.

“What do you think?” Tilly asked as she whirled back around to face him. Oh, he was kneeling. She bent forward over him. Her breasts swayed before his eyes. “Okay there, love?”

“I think,” he rasped. “I think I would have had to kill every lust-addled fool at that blasted resort for the crime of looking upon you while dressed thusly with even a hint of hunger.” Surging to his feet, Francel tossed the laughing Tilly over his shoulder. “Water.” He needed cooling before he exploded inside of his swim trunks. “You meant for us to be here this whole time,” he accused as he waded into the water of Hidden Falls. “You knew I’d hate being on the beach with everyone else.” His broad hand tapped against her bottom in reprimand.

“Oh no, busted!” Tilly twisted and wriggled in his hold. She was laughing harder. “You’re right; you’re right! I would have worn my striped one piece sailor suit if we had stayed on the beach at Costa!” She squealed when he ran underneath the cold waterfall. “Francel, you ass!” Her fur was sopping now, her fuchsia hair soaked flat. Her little feet kicked uselessly. The miqo’te gasped as he slowly dragged her down his front to let her feet touch the bottom of the pool behind the falls. Her eyes fluttered. She let herself be crowded up against a smooth rock. Tilly tweaked his nipples but her wrists were tugged up to held in one hand above her head. She grinned up at her lover. “You got me, Francel.” She purred at the sensation of his other hand at her hip, his thumb rubbing her skin.

“Hmph, wicked woman,” Francel growled. He bent down to slot his lips over hers, coaxing her to open up with his tongue. His jaw worked as he kissed her. She moaned, the sound swallowed between them. Her wet tail flicked against his hip. The elezen pulled away to brush his lips along the curve of her cheek. “I adore you so, my Tylda. Even if you are causing trouble.”

“You like it,” she sang, arching her back to rub her barely covered breasts against his wet skin. “Francel, please.”

The elezen lord smiled smugly, moving to lift her up by cupping her bottom in his broad hands. He pressed her firmly against the water smoothed rock. Her thighs wrapped around his waist. She clutched at his shoulders. Francel hissed at the feeling of her short Seeker fangs scraping along the front of his throat. He rolled his hips between her thighs. Her breath hitched. With one hand still cupping her lush bottom, he used the other to undo the ties of her top between her shoulder blades and at her nape. She whined a protest when he tossed the swim top over his shoulder.

“Oi! That was new!”

“I’ll get you another.” Francel cupped a breast, rolling her perked nipple between his fingers. Tilly wiggled and moaned. He hitched her up higher so that he could suckle at the other. He felt her fingers comb through his blond hair, clutching at the wavy strands. Her hips thrust against him. He licked a broad stripe along her clavicle, the tip dipping into the hollow of her throat. Her still covered sex rubbed his skin. He groaned. “Ties,” he rasped, sliding her down a little. Together they worked to undo the bows at her hips. The swim bottoms floated away. The force of the waterfall behind him sped the scrap of fabric and its ties toward the sea.

Tilly used her heels to push down his swim trunks just enough to free his straining cock. Her fingers eagerly wrapped around it and stroked. His fingers dug into the sides of her thighs as his hips jerked. His broad shoulders heaved. He let out a wheeze when his little miqo’te love guided his cockhead to her entrance.

“I haven’t even…”

“I’m aroused enough! In me!”

“By your command,” Francel grit out, voice guttural. And he could feel how wet she was. He pushed in slow, reveling in her warmth stretching around him. “By the Fury..!” He was gasping hard as he hilted completely in her. “Tylda!” He felt her hands scramble around his ribs to clutch at his wet back. Her ears folded back as she panted against his chest. She nipped his skin in demand. The elezen held her bottom in one hand and sought out her swollen clit with the other. He groaned, his thumb circling the little nub of pleasure. Her inner muscles fluttered around his cock. “Already?” he gasped. But his thumb went faster with his cock buried deep but unmoving.

“OH! Oh, gods!” Tilly writhed in his arms against the rock. Her breathing sped up, her moans rising in pitch. Her short nails scored red lines in the skin of his back. “Move!” Her tail whapped at his thigh.

“Nay,” he gasped. “You will peak first!” Francel pressed his forehead against the crown of her wet fuchsia hair. “Chérie, come for me.” His body shook from resisting the urge to plunge his cock in and out of her. Not yet.

Fury take him, he would see to her pleasure as he had always done.

“Please!” she sobbed. He nipped at the base of one of her ears, growling filthy Ishgardian phrases into it. Tilly wailed, her back arching as she tipped over the edge. Her cunt squeezed in rhythm around his cock. A cue if he ever had one.

Francel gripped the back of her thighs now to spread them wider, her ankles uncrossing from at the small of his back. Her hands clung to his straining biceps. He slammed his cock in and out of her to draw out her orgasm. He grinned as she screamed, a second orgasm taking her so closely on the heels of the first. He crooned praise as he took her against the rock at her back. The sound of the waterfall drowned out the slapping of their skin meeting over and over again. The water churned. His back flexed with his thrusting. He folded her nearly in half, his hands slipping up to the back of her knees whilst raising them in his grip. Her feet were at a height even with his shoulders.

Tilly warbled and coughed a scream at the changed angle. He peppered kisses on her forehead and her temples where he could reach. Her fingers dug into his biceps. “Francel!” she managed to cry.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “My pretty little Tylda.” His eyes flared as her right hand left his arm to delve between them. “Good, so good, darling.” Francel crooned. He could feel her knuckles against the skin above the base of his cock and the brush of her fingers as she frantically rubbed her clitoris. His head bowed as he sped up. “Almost there, almost there!” He mouthed the furred edges of her ears. “Ma petite belle, encore!”

“FRANCEL!” the miqo’te screamed, the thrusting of his cock and her own touches to her clit sending her spiraling to her peak. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” Her toes curled as did her tail. Her ears quivered, her cunt squeezing tight.

“Bien! Bien! Tylda!” Francel lost his rhythm as he chased his finish. Her demands for him to fill her echoed in his pointed ears. Finger shaped bruises bloomed on the underside of her thighs from how his grip had tightened. Heat shot through him. “OH!” The elezen hilted as deeply as possible. His cock jerked, painting her squeezing passage with his seed. “Ah, perfect,” he groaned. He felt his hips twitch as her muscles milked the last of his seed from him. The excessive dribbled out, falling into the water. She was panting against his chest. Her forehead was cradled between his pectorals. “Alright, love?”

“I’m—fuck… I’m awesome. You?”

Francel’s breath ghosted along her flicking ears. “I am more than awesome,” he rumbled. “An excellent swim session, yes?”

Tilly giggled, her hands stroking his upper arms. “There wasn’t a lot of swimming involved here,” she said, craning her head back against the rock to look up at him. She grinned brightly. Her short fangs shone white in her smile. She wiggled her hips, laughing when his eyes crossed. “Gods, I love when you come in me. You should do it every bell.”

“Ma chérie, I would drop dead from exhaustion,” Francel said in amusement. He pulled his hips back to withdraw his softening cock. More of his seed dripped out of her. “I’m lowering you now.”

“Okay, thanks.” Tilly whimpered as he set her down, her feet against the bottom of the pool. She wobbled forward and slumped against her elezen. Her arms wrapped around his waist. He tugged his swim trunks back up whilst in her embrace. “I packed lunch. Wanna eat?” Purring rumbled in her throat when he stroked the back of her head and massaged the nape of her neck. “Best hands ever.”

Francel, always flattered when she praised him, smiled. “Aye, food sounds perfect. Though mayhap you should put on my shirt.” He flinched at the feel of her fangs passing over his nipple.

“Mayhap someone shouldn’t have gave my bathing suit to the sea.” Having recovered a bit of her energy, Tilly ducked out of his hold with a laugh. “I had liked that suit!” She shrieked as Francel pulled her back under the waterfall. “COLD!”

Laughing and shaking his head, Francel smoothed back his blond hair in a slick sweep. “We’ll warm up in the sun,” he consoled.

They climbed the bank of the pool toward their picnic blanket and basket. The towels, having been warmed in the sun, were used to dry them. He gently tousled her short hair and ears with a towel while she wiped down his front and thighs. She shook her head and flicked her ears after he was done. Her spikes were standing straight up. Francel huffed a soft, fond laugh. He dragged the towel over her shoulders and across her chest. Tilly stuck out her tongue before turning him around to dry his back as high as she could reach. Then they switched to drying themselves, rubbing down their legs.

“Sandwiches~!” Tilly sang, tucking a new dry towel around herself and above her breasts. She swayed and danced in place. She watched as Francel draped their wet towels on a rock to dry in the afternoon sun. The miqo’te knelt on the blanket as he came back to sit with her. She dug into the basket. “Oh, ham! And pineapple juice! Here!” Tilly handed her lover a wrapped sandwich. She wriggled up against his warm side. Francel wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her pressed up against him.

They exchanged soft conversation between bites and sips. But all too soon the food and drink was finished. And the basket was shoved back to the side. The couple laid down together on their sides. Tilly’s head was tucked under Francel’s jaw, pillowed by his arm. Her hands rested on his chest, his other arm curled around her upper back. The elezen stroked her skin. She purred and nuzzled his chest. He felt her tail curl over his hip. He hummed an old Ishgardian love ballad before softly singing the lyrics to the woman in his arms. Her voice joined his in harmony. She had learned it just for him.

The sun set over the sea and the stars glowed as evening fell.

Francel brushed a kiss along her temple, kissing down her face. He rolled her over onto her back. He hovered over Tilly to softly kiss her plush mouth. She tangled her fingers with the curling hairs at his nape. Her other hands stroked down his back to rest at his shoulder blades. Pressing her feet flat on the picnic blanket, her thighs cradled his waist. She moaned when his fingers stroked the soft folds of her sex. Tilly moved her hands to push down his swim trunks. Her fingers curled around his cock and stroked the hardening shaft. She swiped her thumb over the head of his cock. He grunted. His own fingers delved into her entrance. He massaged her passage, his fingertips teasing the spot that always made her sing for him. His thumb pressed against her nub.

Tilly broke their kiss with a cry. Her hands pumped his cock with irregular strokes as he plunged his fingers into her. Francel pressed his forehead to the blanket above her flicking ears. He whispered endearments as his hands sped up. Her hands froze, still wrapped around his sex. She arched and came. She barely felt her hands be tugged away to be pressed onto the blanket on either side of her thrashing head. His cock nudged at her entrance before slowly entering. Their fingers intertwined as he hilted himself fully inside of her fluttering cunt.

Slowly and steadily, Francel claimed Tilly beneath the stars. His body curved over hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she keened. He panted, his breath ruffling her wild hair and the short fur of her ears. The tips of her breasts brushed his chest, the supple flesh bouncing with each thrust. Sweat coated their skin and mixed together. He stretched up her arms so that he could hold her wrists with one hand. His head lifted to watch her expression. Her passion clouded green gaze connected with his. His free hand stroked down her torso, briefly cupping each breast before sliding down her flat belly. Her lips parted as his fingers fluttered against her clit. Her grunting rose in volume and pitch, mixing with his own sounds.

The climb to her peak was slow, the heat of it spreading in her veins and flushing her skin. And when Tilly tipped over into pleasurable oblivion, Francel followed. His blue eyes fell closed as he savored his release and hers. He filled her past capacity, his seed seeping from the seam where they were joined.

Before he could collapse on top of her, Francel rolled over with her. His cock slipped out with a wet pop. Tilly laid on him in exhaustion, her shoulders heaving. Her heated cheek was pressed over his heart. She found the strong beat soothing. Tilly smiled as he stroked her back with both hands before cupping her bottom. Her tail wagged weakly before flopping to the side. The tip landed by his hip. She curled up a little, nodding off with him.

The two dozed beneath the rising moon before finally leaving the falls at midnight to stumble to their bungalow at Costa del Sol. Tilly was barely wrapped in her borrowed shirt, giggling with Francel as they snuck past the beach bonfires doting the shoreline. And once they made it back, the pair collapsed in bed to sleep until lunch. They still had the rest of the week at the resort too. It was going to be… a vigorous time.

Tilly was going to be limping by the end.

No regrets.

* * *

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile on the other side of Bloodshore the next morning, a fisherman fished up the most scandalous bathing suit set they had ever seen. In their shock, they dropped the scraps of fabric back into the sea. Their companion roared with laughter, rolling into the water beneath the pier. They nearly drowned from laughing too hard.
> 
> -
> 
> Everyone thank Ivalane for this little continuation! *finger guns* 
> 
> Ta! Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Are these... are these getting longer?! Why is no one stopping me?! I am tired and my partner is losing sleep because I. Just. Keep. Typing! But I'm not splitting my oneshots either! Though I do have bits and pieces of an epilogue for this... NO! This is good as is! Get out of my head, epilogue!
> 
> Tap that kudos button and/or leave a comment if you like! Thanks for reading this nearly 7k indulgent lemon fic!


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